Tis the Season
by Nikitangel
Summary: Amends" from Faith's POV, with many added scenes of "what we didn't see." (WIP)
1. A Broken TV

_Disclaimer:_ Some dialogue is taken from the episode 'Amends' and is _so_ not my property. As a matter of fact, none of these characters are. I just take them out to play once in awhile and put them back where I found them

_Spoilers_: The episode 'Amends,' obviously, and vague references to 'The Wish' and 'Revelations'

_Archiving_: Sure, just let me know. Nikitangel@hotmail.com

_Feedback_: Any and all, even the bad stuff, but keep it constructive, would you? If you do read it, please review - I do my best to return the favor if you have fic on a series that I know.

_Notes_: This is my first fic in the Buffyverse. It sticks to canon, nothing AU about it. I just decided to take a peek inside Faith's head for a bit. 

_New Notes_: Okay, I have decided to expand on this idea, so this is now Chapter One. It's still canon - I've just tried to fill in the blanks. I've always wished for more Faith scenes in Amends, but none have magically appeared, so I am forced to fulfill my own wish. If you read this the first time around, you might notice a few changes I made in an effort to give all of the chapters the same feel. There are more chapters, by the way, some in beta, some still lurking in my head. I'll do my best to yank them out and onto the screen in a timely fashion.

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"Eighteen bucks a day and the crappy TV doesn't even work," Faith muttered under her breath. She gave up messing with the antenna and gave the side of the box a good whack. Nothing else to do in this town, you'd think you could at least catch a flick or two.

She heard a knock at the door and gave the box another shake. "Yeah?" she called, not asking the visitor in. Little more careful with the invitations lately.

The door opened and Buffy appeared at the threshold. 

Another new coat. Girl's closet must take up half the house. "Hey, what's up?" Faith said carelessly, returning her attention to the static on the screen. "Work, damn it!"

"Hey," answered Buffy hesitantly. She thought about saying something nice about the room, but the memory of her last visit checked the impulse.

Faith sighed and gave up, switching off the offending TV. So much for downtime. More uglies to kill. Didn't Slayers get holiday time?

"What's going on? Scary monsters?" 

'Cause we both know you wouldn't be here for any other reason.

"No, um," Buffy felt a flash of guilt at the group's unfulfilled pledge to socialize more with Faith. "We're having Christmas Eve dinner at my house, and I thought that, um, if you didn't have plans …" 

A pity invite. Great. Now she was a charity case. No thanks, had enough of that in life already."Your mom sent you down, huh?" Faith smiled wryly, her expression clearly showing her opinion of the generosity. 

Buffy ordered herself not to blush. "No," she responded, trying to look shocked and appalled.

Faith watched her for a second and decided to play along. "Well, thanks, but I got plans." She wasn't a total loser. "There's this big party I've been invited to. It should be a blast." Faith smiled unconvincingly. She didn't need Perfect Buffy and her Perfect Family Christmas. Partying at the Bronze was a better time any day.

Buffy paused, unsure of whether to press the matter. "Okay. Cool. But if you change your mind, the offer …"

Buffy didn't believe her, huh? Thanks a lot. On some level Faith recognized the illogical nature of her thoughts, but her embarrassment propelled her on. "That's nice of you. Thanks. But I got …" She trailed off for a moment. Don't be a loser, Faith, just get rid of her. "I got that big party that I've been invited to, so …" She ignored the wisps of regret at the back of her mind. Whatever. She didn't need this.

Buffy nodded, surprised at the disappointment she felt. Unsure of what else to say, she turned to go. On impulse, she looked back once more. "I like the lights," she added quietly.

The honesty of the statement stood out in contrast to the rest of the conversation. Faith glanced up at her words, taking in the lone string of Christmas lights adorning the bare room. She shouldn't have bought them. It's not like she needed them. Eighteen bucks a day was eighteen bucks a day she didn't have, so blowing six bucks on some lame Christmas decoration had been pretty stupid. Plus a buck for the thumb tacks. She imagined Buffy's mom had thumb tacks in the house already. And clean towels. And extra light-bulbs. And a million other little luxuries Faith had never known. They probably had a dozen strings of lights around the tree. Faith briefly considered attempting to get any of that across to the well-groomed girl with the fancy new coat.

"Yeah, well. 'Tis the season. Whatever that means."


	2. Two

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Please see Chapter 1 for relevant disclaimers and explanations.

Faith turned up the volume, blasting the tinny headphones as loud as they could go. She sung along under her breath as she worked, pausing now and again to blow away shavings. She held up the stake for close examination, scrutinizing the surface for imperfections. B had complimented her once on her stakes. Not that she cared, but it was cool to have something that was nicer than Buffy's. The other Slayer tended to whittle stakes at random, often preferring to break nearby furniture rather than waste time getting slivers. Faith liked taking her time creating stakes, holding on to them after the kill so they wouldn't poof with the vamp. Just didn't want to waste anything, is all.

The weapon finally passed inspection and was set aside. Faith carefully selected another block of wood from her stash and started the process all over again. Time passed almost pleasantly until a familiar thumping started up on the other side of the bedroom wall. Faith rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten it was Monday afternoon. Doing her best to ignore the moaning, she continued in her tedious work, knowing from past experience that the rendezvous wouldn't last long. Suddenly, the entire bed lurched forward as a particularly impassioned thump landed on the other side of the wall. Faith's hand jerked away a second too late and she swore as she saw the gouge in the wood. Great. She turned to glare at the wall behind her. 

A solitary string of Christmas lights glowed back at her. She scowled at them, picturing Buffy's perfect little house with her perfect mom and her perfect room that was never next to some middle-aged bastard screwing his secretary. She picked up the ruined stake intending to hurl it at the wall, but her eye caught on the flaw near the end. Almost looked like a 'C.' She smiled ironically. 'Chosen'. That was her. Chosen for a lifetime of sleazy motel rooms and a job with no pay. Thanks a lot. Almost subconsciously she reached for the knife and began carving the rest of the word into the stake. 

__

Chosen, except for not, 'cause hey, it was all a mistake, we didn't actually mean to choose you. See, we already have a Slayer and she's way better than you. But you can stay and help her if you want. What, you thought you were friends? Get real. You're the hired help, everyone knows that. It's not like you're an ex-murderer vampire - then things would be different. Then everyone would hide things and lie to protect you and beat up people who tried to save their Watchers from you. No, you're just some second-choice slayer from Southie who should have learned her place in the world by now.

Faith finished cutting the word into the wood and viciously stabbed the knife in after it. Chosen. All the books were wrong, all those dusty books going on and on about the Chosen One. There wasn't a Chosen One anymore, there were two. Two. She existed, she wasn't just some mistake. She and Buffy were the Chosen Two. She yanked the knife out again and added the word 'Two'. There.

After the turbulent emotions died down, Faith felt almost foolish, sitting on her bed glaring at a piece of wood. Just a piece of wood, sharp on one end, good for thrusting into vampires. She ran a finger across the letters etched along the side. Chosen Two. She was in there, in that piece of wood, in that Chosen Two. She was a part of something, even if that something was only with one other person. Beat the hell out of sitting around alone.

Echoes of Buffy's stumbling invitation flashed through Faith's mind. Stupid to keep thinking about it. It was over, done, she wasn't going to go to the Summers' for Christmas just so Buffy could feel better about herself. It wasn't like she didn't have better things to do. Faith shifted in her seat and reminded herself to check and make sure the Bronze was even open on Christmas Eve. It probably was. Not everyone wanted to spend the night cuddling and singing carols and whatever just 'cause it was a stupid holiday.

Faith stared unseeing at the bedspread as she considered the situation. Nothing to consider. She was Bronzing it. If it was open, that is. Which it would be, 'cause why wouldn't it be? Maybe it wouldn't be, though. She chewed her lip, turning the engraved stake over and over in her hand. B might like this. Better than _her_ crappy stakes, anyways. Faith could make a million, it's not like she'd miss this one. Buffy could have it if she wanted. Probably Faith should give it to her. For like, Christmas and stuff. Faith shrugged and immediately felt ridiculous in the empty room. At least she hadn't been talking out loud.

She tapped the stake against her leg. She should bring it to Buffy now. Maybe Buffy would want to use it on the night's patrol. Faith leapt off of the bed before her thoughts could go any further and convince her to stay home. She stuffed some cash in her pocket and headed out, slamming the door of the miserable motel room behind her.


	3. Sleeping Baby

_Please see Chapter 1 for relevant disclaimers and explanations._

A/N : Many, many apologies for the tardy update.  Believe it or not, I've had this chapter written for some time, but my beta-reader is struggling to juggle graduate work and her job, and she's had no time to go over my stuff.  If anyone else is interested in beta-reading, I'd welcome the help.  I'll have the next chapter up this week, though.  I'm just tweaking it now :-)  Thanks to Michelle, Leanne8582, mispel, rma, Randy, cloudofcalm, Mayatawi, Ali and eshell for reviewing.  You guys rock!

It was just a blur of color on her right, but something made Faith pause and look back.  Through the glare of the shop window, she saw a bewildering array of posters, but it was the Mary Cassatt that had caught her eye.  It was one of her "Mother and Child" paintings, the kind you find on gift mugs or nursery walls.  Or in a Boston art museum on a field trip. 

Maybe Buffy's mom would … well, it was just nice of her and all, inviting Faith over.  She had made her dinner that one time.  Even got up to get her another soda.  And she was into art and stuff, so she even knew who Cassatt was. Besides, Faith would look wicked stupid handing Buffy a Christmas present with Mrs. S just standing there.  The Cassatt in the window was just some random poster, nothing she recognized or anything.  But if they had that one…

Faith clutched the handful of bills in her jacket pocket and stepped inside the store.  She was immediately assaulted by a barrage of brightly colored photos and prints plastered onto every available surface.  Her brow crinkled as she took in the crush of people frantically rifling through stacks of posters and impatiently pushing towards registers.  She took a step back, but was immediately shoved further into the store by an influx of new shoppers.  Keeping her hands in her pockets, she began edging her way toward the Cassatt on the far wall.  Beneath the constant hum of commercialism, the strains of an instrumental 'Deck the Halls' could be heard.

As she slowly flipped through a box of prints, Faith could hear the employees in the break room on the other side of the wall. 

"_Every _year, honestly.  _Why don't people ever bother to shop before Christmas Eve?"_

She scowled at the wall and returned her attention to the posters.  She was soon flipping so quickly that she almost missed it when it finally came up.  There it was.  "Sleeping Baby."  Faith stood staring at the picture, unmoving even as another shopper tapped her pointedly on the shoulder.

"Hello?  Are you almost done here?" Fatigue and annoyance lined the older woman's face.  "Some of us have _actual shopping to do."_

Faith turned her head to glare at the woman.  "Back off, lady."

The customer wavered, but stood her ground.  "Well, are you gonna buy it?"

Faith leaned forward to see the back of the print and swallowed at the price.  "Not - not this one."  She pushed it back down with the others and turned around.  Lifting her chin, she glared until the other woman moved out of her way.  

She began shoving her way back to the door.  It was a dumb idea to begin with. So what if B's mom liked art?  She should have known she couldn't afford anything in there.  Who the hell spent that kind of money on posters?  Idiots, that's who. 

She heard a crash and turned to see the rack by the register tumble into the crowd, spilling its contents over the floor.  Most people just moved aside to avoid stepping on the small prints (or didn't), but Faith caught a glimpse of one and crouched down rescue it.

There it was, her Cassatt.  Smaller, but all there.  Baby's face tucked into the mother's neck, heavy limbs drooping across her body, everything.  Faith smiled softly at the image, but her expression dimmed as she saw no price on the back.  Probably jacked up like the rest of this crap.  She reached for the rack with little hope and was surprised at the price tag attached to it.  She could do that.  She really could.  She could even pay more than that.

Faith rose and tapped the small print against her other hand as she watched the shoppers swarming around her.  Her gaze was drawn to a counter along the side wall where the irate woman from before was now arguing with a harried-looking clerk about the right color matting for a print.  A frame, huh?  Yeah, guess that's what people did with art.  Faith watched for awhile, noting the wooden frame the woman eventually settled on.  There was a bunch of little frames on that rack over there.  One of those would probably work.  Faith elbowed her way over and grabbed the first wood-colored one she saw.  She held it up behind the Cassatt and shrugged.  Good enough.

Relieved to finally be headed toward the registers, Faith grabbed a place in line and dug some cash from her pocket.  After an interminable wait, it was finally her turn to check out.  The clerk accepted the wad of slightly sweaty bills with distaste, making a point of flattening each one before placing it in the register.  Faith glared at her and angrily grabbed the print and frame before they could be placed in a bag.  Scooping her change from the tray, Faith turned and headed for the exit, glad to be leaving.  As she paused to stuff the coins in her pocket, her fingers closed around a forgotten pack of gum.  Pulling it out, she found two sticks of Cinnaburst smushed inside.  She stuffed one in her mouth and was shoving the other back in her pocket when the back of her neck prickled.  She tensed immediately and searched the place for the eyes upon her, relaxing her stance when she saw it was just some kid.

The little girl stared openly, eying Faith's attire with interest.  She clutched a ratty-looking blanket to her chest and smiled sweetly at Faith.

Faith looked away quickly, her gaze falling to the softly-smudged picture in her hands.  She stared at the way the mother's fingers curved gently around the baby's stomach.  

"I like gum," the girl stated suddenly.  

The mother's hair looked so soft.

"Red gum is my favorite," the girl added hopefully, sending another winning smile Faith's way.

Faith raised her head to find the girl still staring at her.  With one more glance at the picture, Faith swallowed and reached back into her pocket.  Withdrawing the stick of gum, she held it out awkwardly to the little girl.

"Uh, here.  You can have it."  She was just standing there with her arm out like an idiot, like the kid was really going to - but she did!  The girl's eyes lit up and she reached for Faith's hand.

"Melissa!"  The reprimand was sharp and came out of nowhere.  "What do you think you're doing?"  A woman was pushing her way through the crowd and Faith's heart sank when she recognized her.  Perfect, it was the pissed-off one from before.

The girl had snatched her hand away at the sound of her mother's voice and was now staring at the floor guiltily.

"Haven't I told you a million time never to take - oh, it's you."  The woman's tone became harsher.  "What are you, some kind of pervert?"

"I was just -" Faith started to protest.

"I mean, preying on little kids on Christmas Eve?  You people never stop, do you?"

"'You people'?  Look, lady, she -"

"Were you even going to pay for that?" she asked, gesturing toward the print and frame in Faith's hands.  "It's bad enough you go around flaunting yourself in those clothes." The woman looked over Faith's outfit with disgust.  "I would think I'd be able to bring my daughter out in public without her being corrupted!"  

Faith couldn't help but follow her eyes.  Combat boots, black leather pants, wife-beater, black leather jacket.  What the hell was the lady's problem?  

"Listen, I wear what I wanna wear."  Faith finally found her footing.  "You don't like it, that's _your problem."_

The woman pursed her lips and grabbed her daughter's elbow.  "Melissa, we're leaving.  Right now."  She stalked out of the store, irritably shoving her way past the other shoppers and dragging the girl behind her.  

Faith stared after her, swallowing her rage.  She concentrated on lightening her grip, trying not to crumple the print in her hand.  Her fist closed around the stick of gum and she flung it bitterly to the floor.  She kept her gaze on it for a second, but then tossed her head back up, glaring defiantly at the oblivious patrons around her.  Jaw clenched but head held high, she headed once more for the exit.

As she reached for the handle, she suddenly caught her reflection in the window.  She took in the angry-eyed girl staring back at her.  Chewing the inside of her lip, Faith once again examined her uniform, frowning when she saw a new scuff on her boot.  So they weren't from the Gap.  There was nothing _wrong_ with her leathers.  She scrutinized the crowd of people around her, then returned to her own image in the window.  Maybe she should …well, it wasn't like she was never gonna wear leather again. But maybe tonight she could tone it down a little.  

Faith craned her neck to get a glimpse of the wall clock.  She had time.  If she wanted to go home and change, that is.  She had time if she _felt like changing.  With one more dubious look in the window, Faith clutched the Cassatt and walked out of the store, retracing her steps home.****_


	4. Mirrors

_Please see Chapter 1 for relevant disclaimers and explanations._

A/N - I know, I promised this last week.  But, to make up for that and the fact that this is so short, I'm posting two chapters today.  I would have combined them, but they refused to stick together :-)  Thanks to Leanne and maliek for the reviews!

Faith stood before the open bag, gazing doubtfully at its contents.  Not much to work with.  After another moment of deliberation, she sighed and pulled out a wrinkled button-down shirt and black skirt.  She could button the top buttons for once, maybe pull the skirt a little lower.  It would have to do.  She had already blown her cash on the Cassatt and wasn't about to go shopping again any time soon.  She squinted at the gifts where they lay tossed on the bed.  They seemed smaller now, somehow.  They weren't even wrapped.  They were crappy anyway.  Who was she kidding?  Maybe she shouldn't go.  The TV might work tonight.  She could use that stake herself.

She began to stuff the shirt back into the bag.  As she reached for the skirt, a brief rustling movement across the room caught her eye.  A newspaper page scuttled across the corner, neatly avoiding a dusty mousetrap, and was still again.  Faith watched it resignedly.  She turned back to the gifts on the bed, biting her lip and not thinking about whatever was living in the corner.  She swallowed and pulled out the shirt.  Fine.  She would go.

She shook the garment a few times, scowling at the wrinkles.  Why couldn't she ever hang something up for once?  Grabbing her towel from the radiator, Faith headed for the bathroom.  She draped the shirt across the sink as best she could and stripped off her remaining clothes.  Turning the shower as hot as it could go, Faith did her best to steam up the bathroom during her shower.  The hot water continued for a pitifully short period of time before ebbing into a lukewarm dribble.  Used to showering quickly, Faith quickly rinsed her hair and stepped out to examine the shirt.  Well.  It was as smooth as it would get.  She'd just have wear her jacket over it.

Uncomfortably aware of the dark shade of her lipstick, Faith hurried through her make-up application.  Slipping on the chosen outfit, she found herself once again wishing for a full-length mirror.  She dragged the wobbly desk chair to the bathroom and stood before the mirror hunched over, tugging the skirt lower on her legs.  Finally, convinced it would go no lower, she rose and abruptly cracked her head on the ceiling.  She swore as a shower of plaster dust coated her.  _I can't believe I'm doing this.  Who the hell cares what I look like?_  

The chair clattered to the floor as Faith irritably kicked it back to the bedroom.  Screw that.  She was leaving.  Scooping up the gifts from the bed, she headed for the door.


	5. Finding Tape

_Please see Chapter One for relevant disclaimers and explanations._

A/N: I'll try to get the next chapters out soon.  I am still in the market for a beta-reader if anyone is interested.

It was the fourth shop window featuring a pile of gaily wrapped gifts that convinced Faith she probably shouldn't just walk in the door and hand this stuff to Buffy.  She slowed her pace, tapping the presents against her leg.  Spotting an abandoned newspaper on a bench to her right, she altered her course and grabbed it without breaking stride.  Okay, wrapping paper, check.  Tape.  Hmm.

Faith chewed her lip, lost in thought as she absentmindedly turned the corner.  The Sunnydale Public Library came into view and she smiled and changed course again.  She yanked open the door and strode in.  Spotting a nervous teenage boy at the counter, Faith immediately headed towards him, an anticipatory glint in her eye.  The boy promptly dropped the book he had been scanning and scrambled to pick it up without breaking eye contact with the bombshell heading toward him.

"Hi, I'm Faith."  She grinned confidently and leaned across the counter.  He struggled not to back away.

"Um, hi.  I'm - I'm Craig."

"I need some tape.  Do you have any tape, Craig?"  Faith licked her lips and delighted in watching Craig's gaze dip and jump back to hers.

He nodded jerkily and pulled out a drawer, nearly dumping its contents in the process.  He fumbled around for a full minute before withdrawing a roll of tape and handing it to Faith with a shaking hand and a failed attempt at a suave smile.

"You any good at wrapping presents, Craig?"  She raised an eyebrow, then dumped the gifts and paper on the counter without waiting for an answer.  "Thanks, I really appreciate it."

Craig opened his mouth, then shut it, staring at the unusual items in confusion.  Looking up to catch Faith's expectant smile, he paused, then hesitantly reached for the small picture-frame, leaving the - was that a wooden stake? - alone for the moment.  Slowly he began wrapping the gift, all the while wondering to himself what he was doing.  He opened his mouth in a second attempt at a question - that _was_ a stake, he was sure of it - but backed down again as Faith's eyes warned him off.  Satisfied, Faith casually leaned against the counter and stared at the few library patrons, glaring at one gawking woman until the offended lady huffed away.  Flicking her eyes toward the unknowing Craig, Faith discreetly tugged down her skirt again.  She tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently, then drew a pocket-knife and another stake from her jacket.  Coolly she began sharpening the weapon, unconcerned as the slivers of wood showered the carpet.  

Craig gulped when he saw the knife and quickly lowered his eyes, only to have them land on the original stake, still waiting to be wrapped.  Keeping an eye on the swiftly moving blade, he slid the weapon closer to himself.  He awkwardly wrapped the newspaper around it and affixed a strip of tape, congratulating himself on keeping his hands from shaking… much.  He tried to peek at the mysterious girl out of the corner of his eye, at once wishing for her to stay and hoping she would go away soon.

"Faith?"  Faith's head snapped up at her name and she scanned the library.  Shoulda done that in the first place.  Stupid.

Giles approached the counter disbelievingly.  "What are you doing here?"

Faith resisted the urge to shove her hands behind her back.  "Nothing," she shrugged uncomfortably.  She edged to her right, blocking the countertop with her body.  "I was just looking around."

Giles' brow crinkled.  "In the library?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?"  She lowered her head and resumed her work on the stake, one foot nudging the pile of wood shavings behind her.

"Well, I - I suppose I hadn't - do you come here often?"  Giles couldn't keep the note of surprise from his voice.

"Well, what about you?" she replied defensively, lifting her chin.  "You're a freakin' librarian, what are you doing at the library?  I mean," - stupid, that was a stupid thing to say - "You're at somebody else's library."  

Disconcerted, Giles removed his glasses and began to rubbing them with a small cloth.  "Yes, well, there are - are some things, books, that I thought might, well, assist in some way to, uh, -"

"Whoa, wait a second, I thought Buffy said there wasn't anything going on?"  Typical.  More secret Scooby meetings.  Now they weren't even letting her in on the demon stuff.  Faith moved the edge of the blade down the stake with increasing force.  Well, forget that.  She was a slayer.  A Slayer.  They were supposed to tell her about this stuff.  With a sharp crack, the tip of the stake suddenly snapped off and flew to through the air, landing at their feet.

"No," Giles paused to don his glasses again, regarding the fragment of wood with some degree of unease.  "This isn't about Buffy.  It's - something else."

"Oh." Faith swallowed, staring blankly at the dulled stake in her hands.  Silence reigned as Giles struggled to find the most appropriate reaction to finding Faith in a library.  Faith kept her gaze on the stake, picking at the splinters with a fingernail.  Just as he decided to bring up the weather, Giles was startled to hear Faith's voice again.

"Um, Merry Christmas."  The statement fell awkwardly between them.  Faith's discomfort grew as Giles failed to respond immediately.  She shouldn't have said it so soon.  Or maybe she should have said it at the start of the conversation.

Giles saw her face close up again and mentally shook himself out of his stupor, hastening to reply.  "Yes, Merry Christmas to you as well.  Do you … have plans?"  

Faith looked away, fastening her gaze on a far bookshelf.  "Well, I was gonna go to the Bronze, but I heard it was closed. I, uh, I thought I'd stop by B's.  Not for the whole night, you know, just like a minute."  She flicked her eyes back towards him, wanting to see his reaction to her invading his precious Buffy's family holiday.

Momentarily taken aback, Giles groped for an answer.  He spied the wrapped gifts on the counter and his expression softened.  "Well, that sounds - that sounds like a fine idea."

"Yeah, well …" Faith trailed off.  She turned abruptly back to the fidgeting boy behind her.  "You done yet?"

Craig started, barely avoiding sending a stack of books crashing to the floor.  "Uh, here."  He shoved the wrapped articles towards her. 

"Thanks." She was nearly to the door before Giles called out to her again. 

"Oh, Faith-"

She turned, bracing herself for a polite suggestion that she leave the Summers' alone on Christmas Eve.  "Yeah, what?"

Giles smiled cautiously.  "If you find should yourself with some time on your hands this evening, you're welcome to join me in my flat.  I would … enjoy sharing your company,"  he finished, surprised to find his last statement to be the truth. 

"Oh.  Cool."  Faith stood for a moment, considering the words.  Guess the old guy's alone tonight too.  Decent of him to invite her, even if he didn't want her around.  She shoved a hand in her pocket, trying to think of a reply.  Her fingers closed around a single dollar bill and her chest tightened. There was no way she was going over there without a present for him, even she knew that much about Christmas.  "Uh, I think I'll just hit Buffy's and go home.  But… thanks.  Really."  She stood uneasily, unsure of what came next.  Giles kept staring at her with that weird look on his face.

"Well, I'm gonna go now, " Faith offered before turning away again.  She moved quickly, anxious to get out of the building.  Some stupid bell rang as she pushed through the door and her attention was drawn to the dinky string of lights hanging from the roof outside.  Merry Christmas to you as well.  Huh.  Maybe B's wouldn't be so bad.


End file.
